


Be Happy While You're Living

by Caiti (Caitriona_3)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cameos, Gen, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:09:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28509456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caitriona_3/pseuds/Caiti
Summary: Darcy possesses many secrets, but she's growing attached to the idea of letting Brock figure them out.
Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Brock Rumlow
Comments: 30
Kudos: 186
Collections: MCU Christmas Exchange





	Be Happy While You're Living

**Author's Note:**

> This was being written for the MCU Christmas exchange, but my partner had to drop due to illness, so I shifted over to Fly Alone status.
> 
> Merry Christmas! (Mine doesn't end for several more days. _*giggles*_ ) Title comes from a Scottish proverb - Be happy while you're living, for you're a long time dead.

Darcy watched them; these new security officers who had been assigned to their protection. According to everything they’d been told, these guys had been working undercover. Not that she trusted most of the SHIELD brass. On the other hand, Clint Barton, who she actually trusted, informed her that they’d been SHIELD agents pretending to work for HYDRA while pretending to work for SHIELD. It made her dizzy if she thought about it too much. And she thought **her** life could be hard? 

She just had to pretend to be human!

Not all that difficult, really. Despite their protestations to the contrary, a good proportion of human beings wanted things to be normal, average, and standard. They didn’t like the extraordinary. She had to be careful of the religious types – they **wanted** miracles and supernatural and things beyond the human ken. Everyone else? They saw what she gave them to see and never looked beyond that.

“Miss Lewis?”

She shifted in her seat, cocking an eyebrow at the security leader. “Agent Rumlow?”

“You keep staring at my guys,” he noted, standing almost too straight with his hands clasped behind his back. “Something wrong?”

From the glint in his eye, she could tell he expected her to be nervous or unhappy about having his team assigned to them. No doubt they’d been warned about her – her preference for a taser and her tendency to make comments without engaging a brain-to-mouth filter. So they would have her firmly labeled as a ‘civilian’ in their minds. Accurate enough, as far as it went, but Darcy didn’t tend to get nervous around men. Heck, she usually didn’t go in for nerves at all.

Loki’s otherworldly fiery Doombot from hell notwithstanding.

“Nothing wrong,” she replied at last, shoulders rolling in a careless shrug. “I’m just waiting for Jane to decide if we’re going on an excursion tonight or not.” She waved a hand at his team. “They’re much more interesting to watch than the little lights blinking on the machines or the wind blowing outside.”

His eyebrows rose. “And that’s all?”

“Hey, beggars can’t be choosers,” she pointed out. “I’ll take the eye candy where I can get it.”

That drew a small frown, but he turned and strode away, so she called it a win. 

“Darcy!”

“Yeah, Boss Lady?”

“We can’t go out tonight.” Jane stomped over, a scowl scrunching up her delicate features. “None of the numbers are matching. I’ve got to figure out what the problem is and try again to get them focused.”

Darcy nodded, pouting a little in shared commiseration. “Food and Mexican mochas?”

At that, her friend perked up a little. “Range Café?”

“Okay,” she laughed. “I will totally go pick up some burritos and then later I’ll make the mochas.”

And so their lives went for the first week or so. 

Jane did the science thing while Darcy took care of the mundane – but absolutely necessary – tasks that kept her boss alive, healthy, and mostly sane. Some people probably wondered why Darcy hung around. As an unpaid assistant, she certainly didn’t seem to have much of a future. But then, they all assumed her to be human. Which only proved how blind even the most trained of people could be. Did they never wonder how she managed without money? Better blind than not, however. Safer, too.

Besides, really, what did she need with a bank account, health insurance, or a retirement plan? 

Plus, she had to admit, she enjoyed watching her friend confound the small-minded men and women who thought they could control the cosmos with their scientific method and machines. She did wonder if Jane understood the magic she touched, but at least the woman acknowledged it.

Even if she used machines in her work.

“Coffee?”

At the unexpected voice, Darcy blinked and looked up. She had to blink again as eyes blurry from staring at the computer monitor needed a moment to refocus on a face. Rugged and handsome to be sure, but it still took an extra blink or two for everything to resolve. “Oh, hey, hi.”

“Hi,” Brock chuckled. Then he held out a mug. “Coffee?”

“You wonderful human being, you,” she breathed out, snatching the cup. When she downed the first big gulp, her eyebrows rose. Swallowing, she smiled up at him. “And you even got the right amount of milk!”

“I pay attention.” Brock sipped his own drink and nodded to the screen. “Foster getting ready for something big?”

She sighed. “I’ve got a feeling we’re headed back to the middle of nowhere tonight.”

“I’ll get security arrangements made.” He scratched his neck as he looked over his team. Then he glanced back down at her. “You been up all night?”

“Maybe?” Darcy took another gulp of coffee as she dug through the papers to find her phone. When she saw the time, she huffed out a breath and rolled her eyes. “Make that definitely. Science knows no clock, you know?” Wrinkling her nose, she glanced around. “Jane?”

“Passed out on the roof.” Her brows furrowed and Brock shook his head. “I’ve got Rafe keeping an eye on her.”

“Oh. Good.” She yawned and finished off her coffee. “I need to get this organized and steal a nap.” Putting down the mug, she stretched and yawned again. “But I’ve also got to get food figured out or Jane will never eat.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

She paused, tilting her head as she looked at him. “Will you?”

“Food I can handle,” he chuckled. Then he lifted a brow, nodding at her paperwork. “Pretty sure that’s outside of my realm. Your filing system . . .”

When his voice trailed off, she gave him a bright grin. “Is made for Jane,” she finished. “And meant to confuse lesser mortals.” Mischief played at the corners of her mouth. “Particularly those of the SHIELD variety.”

“Should I be insulted?”

“You could be, I suppose.” She tipped her head from side to side. “But since it’s confusing you is a byproduct, not the main focus . . .” Letting her voice trail off, she stood up and handed him back the mug. “I’m going to take the paperwork and get it organized before falling into bed. Someone call me if Jane goes hyper-scientist mode.”

“We will.”

Another couple of days like that, Brock bringing her coffee just the way she liked it along with him starting to take care of some of the food, and Darcy could feel the bonds forming. Wispy frail things between her and most of the team, but a thicker strand began to weave with Brock. The men lived in the same building, kept them safe, and contributed to the well-being of the whole. Brock provided the necessary gifts, the offerings that appeased her faerie sensibilities. As the leader of his team, his **family** really, that covered the other men, keeping her admittedly whimsical nature from pranking them.

Well, not often anyway.

She began to sense their moods, knowing when she needed to step in with a comment or a question to distract them. It kept the atmosphere of their home happier and smoother, just the way she liked it. More to the point, however, she could feel Brock’s needs – her power started pulling her towards helping him. 

Hearth, home, and family . . . she protected all of these. If they weren’t happy, she wasn’t happy.

And she liked to be happy.

“Miss Lewis?”

“You should just call me Darcy,” she suggested, not looking up from her spreadsheet. “It’s been a few weeks and sooner or later you’ll need to yell at me. Much easier to just use the one name.” When no answer came, she finally looked up. “Or is that going to throw you off too much, Agent?”

“No, I can do that,” Brock shrugged, still looking down at her. “But . . . you seem pretty sure I’ll be yelling at you.”

“Darcy!”

Without blinking, she tilted her head towards the shouting scientist. “Sooner or later, **everybody** yells at me.” Only then did she turn to look at Jane. “What?”

“Where’s my pen?”

“Which color?”

“Any color!”

“Check your hair.”

Jane frowned at her but lifted a hand towards the top of her head. When she found the collection of pens holding up the bun of chestnut brown hair, she made a face. “Right, right,” she muttered as she turned back to a stack of papers. Then she looked back. “Sorry!” she called out. “And thanks! I’ll make apple cake this weekend.”

“Sounds perfect!” Darcy turned back to Brock. “See?”

“You like apples?” 

“I like cake.”

That drew a quick laugh. “I should have known,” he chuckled. “She makes cake as an apology?”

“Nope.” 

For a moment, they stared at each other and then Brock lifted his brows. “So . . .”

“She makes cake as a thank you.” Humor and affection swelled in Darcy’s heart as she glanced back at her friend. Most of her people would be horrified by her current living situation, but it worked for her. “It’s a thing.”

“I’ll remember that.”

Now **her** eyebrows rose. “Oh?”

His hard mouth curved into a wicked little smile. “I make a fabulous _panettone_.”

“Hmm…” It had been a long time since she had an honest-to-goodness Italian cake. Not usually her first choice, but if he made a good one, then she’d make an exception. The corner of her mouth twitched as she turned in her seat to face him. “You’ve got some interesting nooks and crannies to you, don’t you, Agent Rumlow?”

“Brock.” When she tilted her head, he shrugged. “If we’re going to be on a first name basis.”

“Sounds like fun!”

Later that night, Darcy made her way around the building, fingers trailing over the walls as she allowed her power to stretch out. She could feel the men as they slumbered. Small tendrils of magic drifted through the walls to fill their rooms and see if they needed anything. It retrieved lost objects, straightened small messes, and banished dust. Bigger magics would have to wait until they’d truly become hers, not just a temporary part of the household.

She wondered if they’d be allowed to keep them.

Maybe she should reach out to one of her distant cousins – they might be able to influence the right people to let her keep the team.

Her footsteps came to a stop as she reached Brock’s room and her palm flattened against the wall. Turning, she shifted so she could lean her forehead against the rough outside wall. Eyes slipping closed, she spirited herself into the room itself. Another brush of magic made her invisible in case the man woke up. Her movement through the space didn’t cause so much as a whisper of sound when she did some basic cleaning. Dust and dirt vanished as she worked. While the paperwork tempted her to be nosy, Darcy’s internal compass resisted. 

_Three Rules of Work: Out of clutter find simplicity. From discord find harmony. In the middle of difficulty lies opportunity._

Jane would be proud she used a scientist’s words as her favorite quote, but Albert Einstein might have been verbalizing her people’s mantra. Granted, they only applied it to those bonded with them, but it still fit.

Finishing the subtle cleaning, she drifted back out of the room, out of the building itself to renew her defenses. Alien invasions might be outside of her purview, but she could make sure they wouldn’t be bothered by pests, weather, or the passing imp. Not many of those this far out in the desert as they preferred bigger groups of people to pester, but some would travel.

In the morning, Darcy watched as the men worked, most of them happier and more content than ever and she smiled as she realized her little efforts bore fruit. Still . . . a frown flickered over her face as she spotted the newest team member fritter away his time. Laziness irritated her, like fingernails down a blackboard. She would have to deal with Russo later that night. Such sloth required a comeuppance as far as she was concerned.

And it had been much too long since she let out some of her puckish nature out.

Jane took to teasing her and snickering as the men seemed so blind to what power moved under their noses. Darcy couldn’t blame them. No one expected magic. Heck, look at how much trouble Erik had with aliens . . . and at least those could be put into scientific terms!

“How long do you plan to let them stay ignorant?” Jane asked her over homemade margaritas.

“If they never guess, that’s fine with me,” she shrugged. “Technically, if the Court wanted to be jerks about it, I could get into trouble with **you** knowing.” She took a sip of her drink and smirked. “But since they wouldn’t dream of getting the hems of their fancy duds dirty with the dirt of the desert, I figure I’m safe.”

“You just like taking chances.”

“That doesn’t hurt.”

“But what will you **do**?”

“If they figure it out, I figure out what to do from there.” Darcy leaned back, looking up at the stars. “Personally, I’d kind of like Brock to put it together,” she admitted. “He’s . . . tempting.”

“We do kind of have to give him back in good condition,” Jane reminded her.

“It’s not like I’m going to haul him off under the hill and beyond the dale for a century or two,” she pointed out. “I just wouldn’t mind getting better acquainted.”

“But not just in bed or you’d have already seduced him.”

She opened her mouth and then closed it again. It’s not like she could argue. If she wanted to bed a man, she set out to get him and then washed her hands of the whole affair. Her heart didn’t get involved. But with Brock?

“Well, damn.”

“Yep.” Jane finished her margarita. “Just make sure you let me know if you change your mind about stealing him. I want to be very, very involved in my machines and readings when SHIELD shows up to find their lost agent.”

That made her laugh, almost to the point of cackling. SHIELD tiptoed around the tiny scientist, still afraid of alienating her. They would dare touch her machines a second time. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

A few mornings after the margaritas, Darcy half-dozed at her computer as Jane puttered around various machines. She’d turned off the power so she could fix them without worrying about getting electrocuted, thus Darcy couldn’t actually work. 

“Doc looks . . . intense.”

“Jane’s in engineer mode,” she explained without opening her eyes. “Means she’s got to really focus since it’s not exactly her best genre.”

“Genre?”

“Area of expertise?” Giving up on sleep, she opened her eyes to give Jack Rollins a grin. “I like literature, so genre says something to me.” She stretched. “Coffee?”

“Rumlow’s making some,” he replied, nodding towards the kitchen. 

“Awesome.”

“Some of the men and I are headed out to do rounds and hit up the store. You need anything?”

“We should be good.” Darcy paused, watching Jane through narrowed eyes. “Actually, pick up any special edition Pop-Tarts and make sure you leave Rafe behind.”

“He’s already on Doc Rotation.”

She blinked at him. “Did I really just hear the capital letters?”

“Darcy, I’ve never seen anyone get as lost in their work as Doc,” Rollins chuckled. “Caught up, yeah, sure, but not so lost that they fall asleep leaning upright against the board as they’re writing. Pretty sure she **deserves** the capital letters there.”

Pursing her lips and tilting her head to look up at him, she thought about that. “Okay,” she nodded after a minute. “Fair enough.”

“Rafe’ll watch the Doc,” he repeated, turning to walk away. “We’ll be back.”

Most of the men headed out, climbing into trucks and driving off. With that many of them going, they must have planned to hit more than just the grocery store. She shrugged – as long as they kept them all safe, she didn’t care what they bought. 

The glorious smell of coffee reached her nose even as her gaze drifted back to Jane.

Brock stepped up beside her, handing her a steaming mug. “You know, I could have sworn I’d left my desk in disarray, but it seemed pretty clean when I woke up this morning.” 

“Just how tired were you?” she asked as she accepted the cup.

“Not that tired.” He took a drink but kept his attention on Jane. “And lately, the rooms have been . . . less dusty, less cluttered.” Brown eyes shifted, peering sideways at her. “The team’s stopped losing little things too. Keys, earbuds, favorite pens – they just don’t seem to take as long to find.”

Leaning her hip on her desk, she tilted her head and gave him an innocent look. “That’s good, right?”

“Flip side,” he continued, turning to face her. “Russo’s having more issues. He can’t seem to make it through a day without stumbling over something or losing things.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Lazy idiot,” she muttered.

“Yeah, no argument,” he nodded. “And he’ll be off the team as soon as the paperwork goes through, but the point stands.”

“You’re going to have to spell out your question. It’s kind of vague right now.”

“Darcy.”

“Brock.”

He paused, took another drink of coffee, and then put the mug down on her desk. “I want to start by saying I’m not trying to insult you or anger you.” Caution and curiosity mingled in his expression and she could all but see him trying to pick his way through the conversation. 

“That’s always a good idea,” she nodded, saluting him with her mug. “But you started with coffee. Much better place to start.”

“I still need to make that cake,” he muttered. 

She grinned as he glanced at her again. “Certainly wouldn’t argue with cake.”

Shifting his feet, he made a face. “You’re going to make me spell this out, aren’t you?”

“Personally, I prefer not to make assumptions,” she pointed out. “That way, if you’re way off base, I can tease you for years on your guess without giving anything away.” She tilted her head, amusement mingling with curiosity. It had been ages since she had someone figure out any of her secrets. Even Jane hadn’t figured it out without help. Granted, her best friend looked up more than she looked around, so . . . but yes, Brock Rumlow definitely saw more than most. “And teasing is a definite possibility.”

“All right,” he agreed. He took a deep breath. “You don’t look like one of the _lares_.”

“Not being of Roman stock, that would probably be accurate,” she chuckled. “But have you seen one?”

“Well, no.” Brock stared at her. “Just . . . descriptions.”

“You can’t trust those.” Darcy gave him a cheery grin. She should spin him a tale and let the teasing begin, but he impressed her. The _lares_ were close enough . . . even if they were Roman. They still fell into a similar classification – more or less. “Because I don’t look like the standard description of a _brùnaidh_ either.”

Somehow his gaze became even more intense, the concern deepening as he muttered under his breath. “ _Cazzo. In che guaio sono_?”

“Don’t let it worry you too much.” Reaching over, she patted his arm.

“Unless we start acting like Russo?”

“Laziness bothers me.”

“Understood.” He watched her for a long moment. “Anything else we should worry about?”

“Never refer to me with any name or description related to the **Romans**.”

His eyebrows rose and he nodded. “Family thing?”

She gave a soft snort as he sipped at his coffee. “More like bad memories of legionnaires.” When he choked, she patted his arm again. “Don’t let it get to you.”

“How-?”

“Is that **really** something you want to know?” 

He coughed and shook his head. “Never mind.”

“Smart man.”

After that conversation, she found Brock more attentive than ever. Really, if she could have, she would have gone back in time to congratulate his grandmother on her teaching. His men seemed to be picking up on his habits as well. They kept an eye on her scientist, did the grocery runs, and each of them took a shift at cooking. Oh, so many of her sibs would be jealous! Because along with the cooking, they’d each made a dessert, most of them from either family recipes or favorites the men found during service.

M’hencha with orange blossom honey syrup – Faez learned it while stationed in Morocco.

Dundee cake – An old favorite of Darcy’s, but also a specialty Clarke’s mother would make.

Tres Leches cake – Guerrero took all day one day to make that cake. Totally worth it.

Brock still owed her some Panettone, plus Chen promised to make some Mochi at the New Year. Not to mention, Koenig intended to visit his family over the Christmas holiday and figured he could smuggle back some Black Forest Cake. Though he called it _Schwarzwälder Kirschtorte_ , he’d winced when she’d mangled the name and told her she could stick with the English version.

Good thing she kept busy enough not to worry about her waistline . . . much.

Best of all, however, Russo had been transferred.

The bonds she shared with the team slowly deepened, turning from wisps of fog into ropes of silk. Eventually, if they stayed with the two women, she might end up forming connections that would take on their own special colors and scents. She enjoyed watching the team grow stronger as they linked to her. It meant they were shifting from ‘team’ to ‘family’ – and she loved having a family to care for. Her senses expanded along with the bonds, letting her know when her people needed something.

Even if she could only give them a shoulder to lean on.

But the link to Brock . . . 

Three colors wove together to bind her to him – a red that grew more intense every day, lined with rich brown and darkest black. Not that Darcy claimed to be any kind of elf or spirit reader, but even she could see the meanings hidden there. Red – fire, blood, passion – more importantly though, the intensity of it pointed to protection. Brown – stability, support, and a connection to the earth, **her** element. Black – dignity, mystery, and secrets, perhaps, but also force and power used in defense. Darcy could take care of herself, of course . . . and yet, the idea that someone might want to step in on her behalf . . . 

She all but rocked back on her heels at the warmth that coiled through her at the thought.

_Oh, by all the good powers . . ._

Jane just might have been right. Maybe she did want to steal him.

Then again, that would mean leaving Jane and the team behind, and she couldn’t do that. So she would need to find a way to keep him **without** having to secret him away in Underhill. Something easier said than done for sure – given her status and his job. 

Why did falling in love have to be so hard?

Her heart stuttered . . . 

_. . . wait . . . falling in **love**?_

Rolling her eyes, she huffed out a frustrated breath as she stared around the empty room. “Well, crap! Now what?”

**Author's Note:**

> Translations/Explanations:  
> (Translations based on internet searches, not native speaking.)
> 
> _Panettone_ \- Italian sweet bread  
>  _Lares_ \- Guardian deities in Ancient Rome  
>  _Brùnaidh_ \- Brownie - household spirit  
>  _Cazzo. In che guaio sono?_ \- Italian and rough translation - Fuck. How much trouble am I in?


End file.
